


Together We Fall

by ItIsEdgar



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Plot Twists, Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-04-20 17:09:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4795508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItIsEdgar/pseuds/ItIsEdgar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Max Caulfield never thought she would see someone else's death. Ever. At least, not in real life.<br/>So, when she sees both Nathan and a blue haired girl enter the bathroom she does the only thing she can; she trips over a mop bucket in shock and makes a noise so the girl rushes out. Good job clumsy Max, at least you saved the girl. The biggest issue now is that bad boy Nathan has eyes on good girl Max. And not the "I wanna kiss you" kind.</p><p>*Set with no time traveling powers* *AU*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Falling On My Face

* * *

* * *

     Why? Why can't I just feel good enough? Why can't I do it right? _  
_

     I glance down at the photograph that was taken a few weeks back where I was standing in front of my photo wall. At the time it felt like diamond, and now? Now it just feels like coal, all because I can't feel good enough.

    I roll my eyes and glance up into the vandalized bathroom mirror. My plain brown eyes glance at me through red drawn on glasses on the reflective surface. Isn't being good enough just relative? I shake my head, place the picture on the sink, and turn on the creaky faucet.

     I wash my face and then dry my skin with my hoodie. Maybe I am good enough. I pick up the photo once again, staring for a moment, "fuck it", I say, and tear it and throw it to the ground.

     I groan at the wasted potential and look around the crummy bathroom as if it can give me a solution to all my problems. Don't bathrooms do that a lot in movies? Provide guidance to the mislead soul? My eyes suddenly latch on a bright blue butterfly coming through a window at the top corner of the room.

     Well, well, well, good job bathroom. Maybe it _will_  save me. I saunter over to the butterfly--slowly, of course, because that thing is saving my life, I don't need it to fly away, thank you-- and as I round the corner, I grasp my worn camera in my hands. The work of art is just sitting on a mop bucket. Very nice contrast, wouldn't you say?

     I lift the camera up to my face, focus, and snap the picture, the butterfly nicely glowing in the light. The bathroom door slams open as I watch the butterfly gracefully flutter away and smile at the small accomplishment of catching it in a picture. A forever moment. I start to head around the corner of the bathroom when I hear frantic talking.

     I peek my head around the corner and my mouth drops as I see Nathan Prescott pacing and grasping his blonde hair in his trembling hands. 

     Uh. What?

     I glance around just to make sure I know where I am and, you guessed it, I'm still in the little girl's room, and Nathan Prescott is  _definitely not_ a little girl. 

     No, no, no. Nathan Prescott is  _the guy_ at our school, and no, I will never tell him that. I don't want him to be an egotistical ass, and he's already close enough being the star quarterback and the richest guy here. Though sometimes looking at his slight frame, one would think he isn't a sports player.

     He mutters a few things and I hear him say he owns this school. I oractically scoff, way to _be_  an egotistical ass, Prescott. See, I knew he was going to be one. I roll my eyes and am about to round the corner and tell him to go fuck off to some other place when the door screeches open once more.

     A girl with bright blue hair and a light grey beanie walks in with confidence I can't even pretend to have. Just let me tell you, I may be confident in my head, but the moment I speak I sound like a scared little mouse. It's disappointing, but I am pretty shy, and I need to stop. Seriously. It's a downer. 

     The two start speaking heatedly and Nathan goes to the sink and grasps it hard, his knuckles turning white. The girl gets closer to his face and you can tell by whatever she is saying that it is making him more irritated. I wince, because Nathan is a douche and all, but man, it still sicks to have someone all up in your shit.

     "Stop talking, bitch!" Nathan says harshly, his voice cracking with agitation.

     The girl pushes him and says "I can tell everyone everything about you, Prescott. I can tell them that you--" 

     Her voice cuts out as Nathan shoves her. I see a flash of silver and then all of a sudden Nathan is pointing a gun at the girl.

     What. In. The. Actual. Fuck.

     "You don't know who the fuck you're messing with," he says, his voice rising in pitch with each word.

     "What are you doing?" The girl asks calmly.

     "Why the fuck do you keep pushing me? You keep testing me and I--"

     I stumble backwards trying to not freak out and hit the mop bucket that held the butterfly only moments ago, as he starts pressing his gun to the girl's ribs. My composure takes a dive as I realize what I've done. 

     Both heads whip to me and Nathan's eyes glare at me with a venom I didn't know a human could posses. The girl shoves at Nathan and rushes out of the restroom. My breathing goes haywire as my heart beat goes erratic.

     Way to go clumsy Max, now he's after you.

     I stand as quickly as I can and put my shaking hands up to show I'm not a threat, "P-p-please let me go. I-I swear I won't say anything," I stutter out. 

     See, I told you I was shy. So sad. 

     Nathan glances at my upheld hands and glances back to where the girl was just moments before. He groans in frustration and glares back at me. 

     "Are you fucking serious? I've been putting up with this shit for months just to get here and you fuck it all up?" He seethes, his twitching hands tucking the gun in the band of his designer jeans.

     Uh. What?

     He stalks over to me and I put my hands in front of my face to protect it even though if he wanted to kill me in this bathroom, he would totally succeed. There's no way anyone would come save me in here. Trust me, this bathroom is dis-gus-ting.

     His hands are next to my face but I'm still looking at the door, at the place where all of that shit just went down. I point over to it and try to speak but my brain is all muddled and I feel like in going to puke. 

     He clutches my wrist and suddenly I start to accept my fate. Maybe it won't be that bad. Maybe he won't torture me. I start to internally die and then I just watch him as he pulls me up and starts dragging me out of the restroom. I feel like I should call for help now, but my mouth won't work. My voice won't form words. 

     He leads me out of the building and through the front courtyard into the dormitories. He still has a hold of me, and people are glancing at us, but still, I can't say anything and they won't say anything because they all know Nathan isn't someone you should fuck with. 

     The next thing I know, I'm sitting in a dimly lit room and his face is right in front of mine. He's saying something, but I can't hear him. He's waving his hands and shaking me, but I just feel so numb. What the hell did I get myself into?

     I start breathing in and out quickly, replaying the scene over and over in my mind, my cruel brain coming up with many different endings to what happened.

     I feel something cold against my neck and relish is the pure rawness of the feeling. I like this feeling. My eyes start to shut and I welcome the darkness. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

     "Max," a rough voice whispers.

     I open my eyes and look around, and I meet the face of Nathan Prescott.

     Why am I with Nathan Prescott?

     I look around more and take in the dark walls and posters. I'm sitting in a bed with blankets pulled over me and there is an ice pack on my neck.

     Oh my. I'm in his room.

      _His room._ _  
_

     What?

     The bathroom.

     Nathan. The blue haired girl.

     The  _gun._

     My breathing becomes shallow and frantic and I start to pull the blankets away. Oh, please let me get out alive. 

     Nathan sees what I am doing and pushes me back onto the bed. I look up to him and wonder if I'm missing an arm or something. I casually glance down and am relieved to find all of my apendages.

     "Max," he says again, his deep voice catching me off guard.

     "Yes?" I manage to squeak out.

     "Are you okay," he asks awkwardly. Quietly. As if he isn't sure how to make of this situation.

     All of a sudden I am standing and he's right in front of me, looking down at me because of how close we are and I'm fuming because  _HOW ARE YOU GOING TO ASK ME IF I AM OKAY?_ _  
_

I glare up at him and start to say just that when I start to feel lightheaded, "What is going on?" I manage to whisper as I topple back onto the bed.

      _His_ bed.

     He pushes me back until I'm laying down and puts the icepack back onto my neck. He tucks his hands into his varsity jacket and watches me for a moment. I glance at him thankfully, but not without worry.

     "You'll be okay. I'm not going to hurt you," I'm about to put my two cents in when he holds up a hand and continues, "trust me, you screwed some shit up and and if you were a guy, I'd totally punch you, but you aren't, so I can't."

     He shifts and sits in a chair that is residing across from the bed and fidgets for a moment.

     "What you saw isn't what you think it is, I know it looked bad, but I need you to trust me. I need you to not say anything. You just, you don't know."

     I nod warily, "Why am I here?"

     I suddenly feel stupid because I mean, this isn't like I got abducted and I'm standing in front of aliens. No, I'm just in a boy's bed as he sits across from me.

     "You went into shock. You were out for hours. I couldn't get you to do anything," he states quietly. Timidly. "I brought you here so you wouldn't do anything stupid when you came to."

     I glare at him and he glares right back. 

     "Me? Me doing something stupid," I choke out a laugh, "you were waving a gun at a girl, Nathan. A  _gun_ at a  _girl_  in the _b_ _athroom at school._ Why wouldn't I say anything? I don't trust you at all, and I want to leave. Now."

     Damn, did I say that out loud? You go, girl.

     His glare gets worse, which I didn't think was possible and he gets up in my face.

     "You will do no such thing. You have no idea what you are getting yourself into. It would be best for you to say nothing. Now, if you want to leave, go right ahead. I'd be happy for you to, but remember, you aren't saying shit. Who would believe you?"

     He abruptly stands up and waltz out the door and I climb out of his bed and try to get in his face but at the last minute stop. Who the fuck _would_  believe me? Loner girl targetting popular guy for attention? Yeah, that's how it would go. He owns this school, just like he said. His parents could crush me in seconds.

     I huff in anger and rush out of his door. The moment I slam it closed behind me I lean against it and catch my breath.

     Fuck, I need sleep. 

     I head to my dorm room to do just that.

* * *

 


	2. Falling Into Bad Situations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment when you like or dislike things! Ask me questions, tell me where you want this story to go, and just say anything you want! I read your comments and take them into account. :D

* * *

* * *

 

     I wake up in my bed to the loud beeping of my alarm clock and slump out of my bed to shut the annoying thing up.

     I swear, half the time I don't know whether to thank or curse the person who created alarm clocks.

     I trudge over to my closet to pull out a T-shirt and pair of jeans randomly, throw them on, and then put on my coveted grey zip up and messenger bag. Sometimes I feel like should switch things up, but then again I'm not working to impress anyone.

     I walk up to my mirror beside my door and take in my appearance. 

     Yup. I am so ready to face the world. 

     I walk out of my room and head to the front courtyard to enter the main building for first hour class. My tired mind sends my body in the right direction as I contemplate the pros and cons of skipping class for more sleep.

     Who am I kidding, though? I'm definitely not missing class for sleep when I need to get into a decent college for photography. Especially with Mark Jefferson as my teacher. The great, popular, and high demand professor. 

     I start climbing the steps when a small hand wraps around my forearm and tugs me backwards.

     I whip my head around to see who's messing with me and my eyes land on the blue haired girl from yesterday, shock etching my face. I quickly recover and internnaly groan because seriously? I was trying to act like it never happened.

     I'm about to pull my arm away when the girl speaks, her voice soft but still full of it's own power, "Max?"

    I'm astonished that the girl knows my name and I take in her looks once more. Those green inquisitive eyes, the long, straight sharp nose, and suck in a breath, "Chloe?" I stutter out.

     I start to pull my arm away again, but her widened eyes narrow into slits and her grip tightens, "You really fell into some shit yesterday, didn't you?"

     I roll my eyes at the attempt of a joke. Seriously? You just had to say shit because we were in a bathroom?

     "Chloe, let go of me, and what is going on, why is Nathan Prescott after you?" I whisper.

     She laughs. Actually  _laughs_ at me.

     "Nathan is a fucking twat. He has no idea what he's doing. And same with you. It'd be best for you to run the other way. And run far," she says, moving closer to my face, her hot breath beating down on me.

     I try to back up, but her hand is still gripping my arm so I can't move. She clenches her teeth and tightens her hold. What happened to Chloe? Is she insane?

     "What are you talking about? Why is everyone telling me I don't know what I'm doing? I fell on my ass in a bathroom, how does that make me a part of this?" I yell at her, still trying to pull my arm free from her grasp.

     People start to look, and I start to get nervous. What is this shit? This is really starting to piss me off. 

     "I think that you should figure out who you're fucking with before you start to take sides, Maxine," she spits out venomously.

     "Sides? What fucking sides?" I try to not roll my eyes at the use of my whole name. 

     She clenches her jaw and looks at me through her bright blue bangs, "I don't know what you're trying to do, Max, but I am  _not_ who I was five years ago when you decided to ditch me and Arcadia Bay."

     Okay, that stung. She is definitely not the same. At all. Holy shit, this is scary as fuck.

     "I didn't ditch you. I didn-"

     "Max," a deep voice interrupts my defense.

     We both turn out heads to see a smug Nathan watching our exchange, his slim body slightly slouched and his hands tucked into his letterman jacket.

     "You have some balls coming over here, Prescott," Chloe says, sauntering over to him with me in tow.

     Nathan's eye twitches, but his snide smile remains, "Well, I couldn't leave little ol' Max here to the bitches, now could I? Now let me take Max off your hands and leave with her. Okay?"

     Chloe snaps her teeth in irritation and steps back, because, let's face it, Nathan owns this hell hole. He could definitely get some shit on Chloe. I wonder why he hasn't yet. Or maybe he has and he is just waiting for the right moment. Holy shit these guys are fierce with each other.

     Nathan struts over to me, slings his arm over my shoulders, turns me, and starts heading back to the dorms without an incident from Chloe.

     I turn my head around and watch Chloe stare at us. She snaps her eyes to me and starts to mouth words that I try to comprehend, but Nathan's thin fingers that belong to the arm wrapped around me find my chin and force me to look forward. We walk along in silence and reach my door while all the girls in the halls watch us. I reach for my handle thinking that maybe I can get away easily, when Nathan's hand stops mine.

     Freaking out about the tingling sensation from his hand touching mine, I do what any sane teenager in the same situation would do: I snatch my hand back.

     Nathan's deep chuckle rumbles and I swear I can feel his chest vibrating because he is that close. I step away to try and clear my head as Nathan opens my door and walks in like he owns the place.

     I look down at my shaking hands and demand them to stop being such crybabies. Oh God, I'm freaking out. 

     I walk into my room, and try to swallow back my nervousness. I can do this. I am Maxine Caulfield.

     I am amazing.

     Nathan sits on my couch and picks up my worn guitar and starts to pluck a tune.

     I must admit, I'm slightly impressed he can play. I walk over to my bed and sit on the edge. I clear my throat and he looks up at me, still playing his song.

     "Leave," I manage to squeak out before my arms start trembling from the raw anxiety coming off of me. 

    Nathan takes one look at me, smirks, shakes his head, and sets my guitar down.

     Holy shit, did it work?

     I watch wide eyed as he stands up and stretches only to sit right back down. 

     "What happened with you and Chloe," he asks.

     I glare at Nathan for a moment, taking in his Blackwell letterman jacket, his blonde hair, his slim, yet still athletic physique, and decide it would be better to answer. I mean, his shoes probably cost more than everything put together in my room right now, I'd like it if he didn't ruin me.

     "She just told me I should mind my own business, like I'm telling you right now." I say, defiantly living my chin.

     Oh yeah, I can be tough.

     Nathan shakes his head at me once more, "If Chloe thinks youre a threat, you're already too far in."

     My mouth drops at his statement and I fall back onto my bed. What am I supposed to do? I can't do this shit on my own. I throw my hands over my face and demand my eyes not to burn with my unshed tears.

     I hear Nathan shift on my couch and he starts to speak again, "Your phone, where is it?"

     I push myself up onto my elbows and narrow my eyes at him. He looks at me and sighs, expecting my questioning, "Why?"

     "Because if Chloe thinks you're a threat, then so does everyone else. Give me your phone."

     I roll my eyes and fish in my pocket to pull the old model out. I quickly unlock it and hand it to him.

     Seconds later he hands it back to me and is walking to my door, "Only call me when you need help, otherwise, I really don't give a fuck." He says, and then he's gone.

     I look down to my phone to see the new contact.

     Nathan Prescott. 

     Why would someone trying to kill Chloe try to help me? And why is Chloe after me in the first place?


	3. Falling Into Danger

* * *

* * *

     I pace my room back and forth with my phone still in my hands. I need to get ahold of Chloe and see what's going on her side. I need to know what I've so unceremoniously gotten myself into. I need to give her a chance, don't I?

     Will she even listen to me? Nathan said she's dangerous, but he could be lying to keep me from doing what I need to do.

     I bite my lip and look down at my phone. I can do this.

     I take a deep breath and, having made my decision, make a break for the door.

     I make my way through the dorms and out into the crisp autumn air. My flimsy jacket doesnt do much to keep the cold away. I walk across campus to the bus stop in front of Blackwell so that I can take it to the diner, Two Whales, her mom works at. I can talk to Joyce and see what's changed. I stand at the stop and look down the road to look for the warm escape of a bus.

     After a moment the heavenly metal contraption pulls up and I make my way onto a seat in the back, several other people boarding on behind me. I sit down and tuck my bag next to me so no one will try to sit and stare blankly out the window.

     Maybe Chloe is just being depicted as the bad guy because there is something Nathan wants from her, but what? He has money out the ass. Like, literally. He probably shits it. Maybe he wants something less materialistic? I don't even know. Maybe Chloe is the bad guy here.

     I continue to contemplate ways Chloe could accidentally be involved in this and when my stop arrives, I stand up to get off. A few people behind me start to rush me and I quickly step off to get out of their way.

     I walk down the sidewalk until yhe old building looms a short distance in front of me. Once I reach the steps of the diner I breathe in deeply.

     I can do this.

     I open the glass door and make my way to a booth by a jukebox in the back corner. There are several people sitting on the barstools in front of the kitchen and prep area reading newspapers over a cup of coffee. 

     After I sit down, Mrs. Price walks up and smiles brightly at me. Ah, the similarities between mother and daughter are uncanny, even with Chloe's crazy blue hair.

     "Well if it isn't Maxine Caulfield. How have you been?" She places her hands on her hips and waits for my answer. 

     "I've been well, thank you." I say back.

     We chat for a moment, and then I take a deep breath and dive right in.

     "So what's been going on with Chloe?" I ask nonchalantly, pulling at the sleeves of my jacket.

     Mrs. Price looks around for a moment, purses her lips, and slides into the booth facing me. She pushes her brown strands of hair from her forehead and leans in close.

     "Chloe has changed a lot in the five years you have been gone, but I feel like it is just her going through a phase. Ever since I remarried, she just doesn't agree to anything. She used to hang out with that girl Rachel Amber all of the time and then she went missing and I think that was Chloe's last straw. She just--" she stops speaking and abruptly looks up. Her eyes widen slightly and she gives a small smile.

     I turn my head and see Chloe glaring at us. "Hey there, Joyce. Why don't we let nosey Max ask all the questions about me to me?"

     I open my mouth to defend myself, but I have no valid argument so I just watch as Mrs. Price's eyebrows pinch together and she scoots out of the booth.

     "I'll get you some waffles, Max," she says before walking away.

     Chloe then struts to where her mom was just sitting and plops right down. She leans back as much as she can and throws her hands onto the tabletop and just stares at me.

     After a moment, she sits slightly up and says "So you and Nathan Prescott, yeah?"

     My eyes widen and I open my mouth, it's not like I didn't know this was going to happen, bit hearing it is still weird.

     "Well, it isn't like that. I have no idea what's even going on. What happened in the bathroom with you two was intense as fuck, and Nathan was just the one who happened to stay and deal with me. I just, I want to understand what's going on. I want to know if you're okay. And.. And are you?"

     Her eyebrows perk up and she doesn't open her mouth or make any move to respond.

     Okay... Maybe not the best question.

     I look around, mentally checking on each person because Nathan did say she was dangerous, maybe she has extra people around ready to--

     Wait. No. I am here to choose Chloe's side. I have to stop listening to what Nathan said.

     "What did he tell you," she asks, perking an eyebrow once again.

     I furrow my own as I try to think back to it, "All he really said was that I should stay away from you and that this isn't any of my business. He wants nothing to do with me. He gave me his number though and said to call him when I was in danger. He shows up every once in a while to basically check up on me but then leaves and states he doesn't give a fuck about me. It's really annoying, actually."

     Chloe looks at me for a moment, then leans in close like her mother just did only moments ago. Her eyes are gleaming mysteriously and her smile has a crazy edge to it. She looks like she just thought of the best thing in the world.

     "I'm going to go out on a limb, Max, and decide to trust you. I'm going to tell you a few things, but I want something in return."

     I pull my head slightly back and think about what I am doing.

     I have had a conversation with her for all of three minutes, why would she decide to trust me? I'm in way over my head.

     "You should be scared, Caulfield," she states, misreading why I moved, "You are now the middle person in this war. You could call it a Drug War, but, oh God, there is so much more to it than that. You, lucky Max, get to be our middle person and figure out what the fuck Prescott is really doing."

      I pull my head all the way back now. 

     What the fuck am I getting myself into?

     "If Prescott is continuously checking up on you, it means there is something about you he likes. It means that he wants you on his side, and Max, trust me, that is  _not_ the side you want to play on. That little scene in the bathroom was so that we could boost the bitch's confidence. If he feels like he's doing everything right, he's going to start doing things wrong."

     I look at Chloe while she gives me her little speech. She looked terrified with that gun pointed at her, and that fear did not look faked. I glance up at her face and a sinister smile spreads across her lips.

     "You said Nathan would only help you if you got into trouble, right?" She asks as she snaps her fingers and a few burly ass dudes walk up.

     What the fuck am I doing?

     "Well, let's get you into some trouble."

 


	4. Falling Into Trouble

* * *

* * *

     I gulp in air as my feet hit the pavement over and over again, trying to gain distance between me and Chloe's "trouble". I take an abrupt right turn and build up my pace and take another sharp turn.

     After I decided that I didn't really want to out Nathan just yet, Chloe almost leapt over the table and clawed at my throat. Or that's what I thought was going to happen with the glare she ended up giving me. She claimed she shouldn't have dropped the word trust so quickly and that in actuality, it should be earned, and I said it back. I won't give her Nathan until I'm sure about both sides.

     Then she said she would give me three minutes head start, and then let the guys loose on me.

     Of course I would get myself into real trouble with her.

     I see a dumpster ahead of me and duck behind it, hoping to use it as safety for just a few moments. There's broken bottles, glass and all sorts of things lying around, making it easy to hear approaching people. My heavy breathing causing my chest to heave proves to me just how unfit I am.

     My trembling fingers grasp at my phone and I reach to unlock it. My quick breathing and shaking knees aren't helping much, but I need to get ahold of Nathan if this is going to work out the way I need it to.

     And I need to keep Nathan from Chloe and the other way around.

      I breathe in deeply and close my eyes. I can do this.

     I pull up Nathan in my phone and my still trembling fingers press the call button. I hear the ringing and put it up to my ear.

     It rings for a moment and I'm about to hang up because let's be honest, this is Nathan Prescott. He's either fucking with some girl, selling drugs, high as shit, or all three.

     I hear feet hitting the ground a little further down the street and start to panic. This is real, this is so real.

     So, of course he isn't going to answer, but at the last moment I hear his voice.

    "Nathan Prescott," he says, "who is this?"

     I gulp in air and remember that he gave me his number, not the other way around. Maybe it would be clever not to bring him into this, he said Chloe was dangerous, but if I don't bring him into it I might not make it.

     "I-" I whisper, but stop as I hear the crunch of glass. "Hello," Nathan says on the other line, but my arm is yanked so forcefully I stumble out of my hiding place. "Nathan!" I scream, as my phone drops from my hand and lands on the ground. I take in a sharp breath and look at the men Chloe sent after me. 

     "Max is your name? Right, little girl?" The burly guy says seethingly.

     "I-," I try to speak, but panic is setting in, "Please," I whisper helplessly.

      The guy laughs and starts to tug me further away from the dumpster, further away from my phone. There's another guy leaning against the wall and staring murderously at me.

      "I'm close to Two Whales," I manage to say with some force, "TWO WHALES," I scream as the man catches on and dives behind the dumpster for my phone.

     The man grips it in his meaty hands and looks at who is on the call, which relieves me because I was scared he hung up.

     The man puts the phone up to his ear, "Your little bitch is gonna get fucked up," he laughs. He then throws my phone down the alleyway and approaches me once more.

     He circles me and his hand gently moves around my waist, causing a tension that makes me want to puke.

     "Well, Max," he spits, "You've come around here asking for Chloe, and you gain her attention right quick, and the moment you do, you run away. Why would you do that? This is a dangerous business, little girl, and Chloe doesn't like getting toyed with, so you best do as she wishes."

     I stare angrily at the man and he snarls at me. He grabs my hair, close to my scalp, and pulls hard, tugging me down toward the ground.

     "I'd rather not lead someone into their death, especially if they haven't even done anything," I heave out.

     The other man chuckles and mutters the word "fiesty", causing the one holding me to shoot a fiery glare, "That's why you shouldn't get involved in the wrong things."

     I scoff, "I was forced into this," I spit out.

     He pulls my hair again then realses me, throwing me against the brick wall, my back hitting it hard.

     I gasp at the sheer pain and my vision starts to swim. He pulls me toward him and then slams me against the wall again, "Get it through your fucking head that messing with this shit gets you fucked up! Chloe can control you. She can ruin you. I can ruin you."

     "Fuck you."

     The man shoves me against the wall again, then uses the force of the push to drag me upward until I'm barely standing on the ground. He glares up at me, then abruptly lets go, causing me to land awkwardly on my ankle. I stumble, which makes the man angry enough to slap me and start to drag me away, the sting burning through my face. I whimper in pain and I swear I can feel my back bleeding with threads of my skin hanging off.

     Time. I need to find some time if Nathan is going to come get me, but I don't know if he heard me.

     I glance up at the sky and hope that I'm getting out of this alive. I dig my heels into the ground and cause the man to slow his pace, if only for a moment. He growls in frustration, only dragging me closer to where we originally started; the dumpster.

    I'm still looking up when the man's rough hand grips my chin and forces me to look at him, "are you ready go back to Chloe and agree on this arrangement?" 

     I think for a moment, so far Nathan has given me ways to stay safe even though he clearly doesn't give a shit about me, and Chloe just wants me to take down Nathan.

     So far, I'm leaning toward Nathan.

     I glare at the man, and he leans closer to my face, trying to intimidate me. I'm trembling in fear, and it's envoloping my brain, but apparently so is stupidity. My whole body just wants to spit in his face. 

     So that's what I do.

     I feel myself being pushed back and I roughly slam onto the pavement under my feet, my head bouncing off the ground and my already fucked up back hitting it sends me into a moment of pure misery. I feel the pain and heat spider through my head and my vision turns white.

     I feel the man climb over me, wrap his hands around my neck and start to squeeze. I try to move my hands to slap at him, but his thick arms are thwarting any legitimate progress I might make. I'm kicking and pushing up with my torso, but the man is too big. I can feel blood seeping through my jacket and T-shirt from the impact to the wall and then being pushed to the ground. I'm pushing up and down to try and get him off, but it's doing no good. Each time I move, my shirt rides up and the glass from broken bottles and the torn up pavement crushes into my back, causing more cuts and sources of pain.

     I can feel myself slipping away.

     Slipping.

     Slipping.

     I hear something slam and then the sound of many curses fill my ears. The next thing I know is that when I try to suck in air, I get it. I flip over onto my stomach and try to push myself up on my hands and knees, but I'm just too weak.

     I start coughing and the ground sprays red next to me. I wipe my mouth with my sleeve and look up to see what's going on. Nathan is on top of one of the guys, punching him in the face, and I can't seem to find the other.

     I start to stand and am pulled back by my waist. I let out a strangled noise and Nathan tenses, and his head snaps up to look over at me, earning himself a punch in the face.

     He glares down at the man and starts speaking to him, but I can't hear what they're saying, I'm being dragged away.

     I'm lifted up over a shoulder, but I'm too weak to fight, I'm still fading in and out of consciousness. "Nathan," I try to wheeze out, but my throat is so rough from getting choked that he doesn't hear me.

     Tears start to stream down my face as I realize how different Chloe is from who she used to be. She never would have hurt me.

     I'm still coughing up blood when we round the corner and I can no longer see Nathan. We're still in the back roads and alleys, so no one can tell how damaged I am.

     I hear footsteps approach and see Nathan's jean clad legs through my captor's legs.

     "Why the fuck are you carrying her like that," Nathan growls out.

      What?

      Is he trying to kill me, too?

      With my state, and being pretty banged up, I feel really emotional and begin to full on sob.

     Nathan curses once again and the man who has me lifts me up and places me on the ground facing away from him. My head is still pounding, and my throat feels like it is still being crushed, causing me to wheeze in and out in pain.

     I see Nathan looking at me, and he starts to approach me, but I flinch back. His eyebrows furrow and he comes closer, but slower this time.

     Once he is close enough to touch me, he bends and puts an arm under my knees and behind my neck and lifts me into his arms. I whimper in pain again because my back feels shredded.

     He pulls me close to his chest and starts to walk away from the brief but traumatic scene.

     "B-blood," I say, because my blood is going to be all over him.

     He says nothing and pulls me closer and holds me tighter.

     We reach his car which is parked at the diner and I remember that my shattered phone is laying in the street back there.

     "My phone," I mange to get out of my sore throat. It still burns to breathe and tears are still falling from my eyes.

     Nathan looks down at me and his eyes narrow, "Fuck your phone, I can get you a new one."

     I nod and close my eyes because I don't care anymore. Who knows if he is going to kill me, I just want to sleep.

     It's so close. Sleep.

     I start to fade away at the thought of not feeling the pain as Nathan whispers something to me that I don't quite catch, but I don't care.

     I just fade into the darkness.

      


	5. Falling Out Of Dreams

* * *

* * *

     "Max," a soft voice calls.

     I struggle to open my eyes and look around. I'm sitting in my room, at my parents' house. I can see all the old pictures I took when I was younger. An aspiring artist. There's my small wooden desk with the pictures Chloe and I drew. I hung them up in rememberance of her, yet I never reached out of her.

     How could I have never reached out to her?

     I'm about to get up to look at them, when a thought strikes me.

     This isn't where I've been.

     How did I get here? How did Nathan know where I lived?

     "Max," the voice calls again.

     I turn my head to see Chloe sitting across from me on my bed, but it isn't the blue haired, violent, drug-induced Chloe.

     It's gentle, thirteen-year-old Chloe.

     That doesn't make any sense. I slap my hands over my face and rub ny eyes to make sure it's not real. I glance around and try to get out of my bed again, but it isn't working.

     "Nathan?" I call out, slightly scared.

     "Max," Chloe calls again, I look at her and see her soft smile, the innocence of it haunting me. She was such a small, fragile girl. How could I have left her? I start to mumble her name, but her green eyes fill with anguish.  It turns into a look of pure horror.

     Everything around me changes, and she is holding onto a ledge, and I'm at the top, lying on the ground, reaching my hand towards her. Her hand is outstretched toward mine. They're so close. We're so close. I reach for her, the impact of rain and hard wind on me unaffecting my concentration on my current mission.

     Save Chloe.

     "Max!" She screams, reaching out for me, and I try to grasp her small hand, but each time I feel close enough, she keeps slipping away. I can't let her slip away. I can feel my heart eraatically heating as I inch further down the cliff, trying anything to get closer.

     "Max!" She screams.

     Tears are falling down her round cheeks and I keep reaching out to her, but the closer I get the further she seems. I slip further off the edge, stretching my arm out as much as I can.

      "Max," the slick, wet, muddy ground starts shaking and I start to slip. I instinctively claw at the ground, trying to gain traction so that I won't fall, and Chloe starts to slip.

     "No!" I scream.

     I'm screaming, screaming so loud. My body is trembling in fear. My shaking hands still reaching toward the abyss in which I saw her face just moments ago. I can still hear her voice, I can hear her repeating my name, and I cover my ears trying to make it stop.

     "Max, wake up!" She calls from right next to me. Her lips close to my ears. I turn my head to look at her. It isn't gentle Chloe. It's the blue haired psychopath. Her face laughs in amusement at my shock, but there isn't any sound, and it makes it a lot creepier. Looking at someone while they laugh with no sound coming out. No expression other than a smile and a shaking body.

     "Wake up!" Her voice changes, but her mouth is still moving, a mischievous, knowing smile etched into her face.

     Her eyes glint and I'm staring at her with my heart in my throat, trying not to cry.

     The wind is pushing my hair around, and the ground isn't shaking anymore, but now I'm losing my grip on the slick ground.

     "Wake up, Max!" The voice yells. Chloe walks closer to me, her hands outstretched, but not in offering. No, they're outstretched so that she can push me.

     She keeps creeping closer, and I try to scramble backwards, but then there's another Chloe beside me, but this time she isn't thirteen or the crazy blue-haired version of her. This time she's five or six with a teddy bear in her hand, eyes filled with tears, and he small chubby finger pointing at me, "You're killing me," she whispers.

      I flinch back but I'm hit by another Chloe from another time in her life and I look around to see a swarm of Chloes closing in on me. I start to sob as they all push me closer to the edge. I push back through them, but they're stronger than me. I look backward and look into the abyss that is now trying to take me.

     "Please," I sob, "I'm sorry." 

      The blue haired Chloe pushes to the front of the crowd and her silently laughing face takes in my crying one. Closer and closer she comes to me. Her hand touches my chest and then they're wrapping around me, holding on so tight. She starts walking again, she's pushing me backward to the cliff, but with her in tow. I'm pushing back myself, trying to get us not to fall.

     "Wake up," they all scream, right as I loose my footing.

     My eyes snap open and I can feel someone wrapped tightly around me. I can feel the quick beat of a nervous heart, the rapid breathing of a panicked soul. I can feel fingers running through my hair, and I can hear the deafening sound of silence in the room.

     My eyes are wet from crying, my voice sore from screaming. My body is warm, but shaking.

     "Wake up," he whispers, his voice slightly strained. 

      "Nathan," I whisper. I look up into his tormented face, and his glossy eyes look back at my own.

     "Shhh," he hushes, brushing hair from my face.

     My chin trembles and my tears start again as I choke back a sob. I wrap my own arms around him and he holds me tighter as a new pain starts to take over. His shaking fingers wipe away some of my tears and he sucks in a deep breath. 

     "Shhh," he hushes again.

    I clutch myself closer to Nathan as I cry the night away and he rocks me in his arms, whispering soothing words, encouraging words. I eventually fall asleep, but only after I'm comfortable in the silence with Nathan, both of us holding on. I don't know why he was holding on to me, but sometimes I think its because he knows nights like this well. 

    He has many of his own demons.

* * *

 

      I wake up again during an odd hour of the night, when I feel the sudden absence of Nathan like a knife to the stomach.

     My eyes land on his figure sitting on a couch, his hands crossed, pressed to the bridge of his nose, his body slumped forward with his elbows on his knees.

    He notices my movement and his intense blue eyes capture mine.

     I throw a confused look at him and he speaks up, "You've been out for a couple days. I took you to the doctor after the incident and they gave you some meds and shit. I put them on my desk."

     I stare at him for a moment not sure what to say.

     "I-I'm sorry," I croak out, my voice still rough and my throat still sore. I try to move, but my back screams in protest. Holy shit, it didn't hurt that much just a few hours ago. But my meds could be wearing off.

     He stands and walks to his aforementioned desk, grabs some pills and hands them to me. I look at them curiously for a moment, but still take them. I look up at him, but he seems to have a perpetual sneer on his face. I swear I can feel his resentment toward me. Does he regret saving me? Does he regret comforting me through the night?

     It's not like I asked him to help me. It's not like I needed him to.

     My eyes sting with hurt and my cheeks flush in embarrassment. If it's so awful for me to be here, he shouldn't have brought me.

     He is still staring at me when I manage to swing my eyes to his. He grunts and turns his face from me, effectively dismissing me. What did I do? He's the one who chose to do this! Not me! He's the one who got me involved!

     I look out of his window to the night sky and try to calm my breathing. What the hell is this shit? If I wasn't about to die everytime I moved my back I'd walk out of this place and slam the door in his face.

     "I got you a new phone," he states.

     I turn my head towards him and see he is sitting on the couch again, less hate pouring through his expression.

      I start to fidget and he growls in annoyance. He fishes the device out of his pocket and walks closer to hand it to me. In reach out, grimacing when I feel the pain in my back. 

     "Rest," he says, "you got pretty messed up."

     I glance at the new phone, taking in the sheer absurdity of it all. It's sleek and black and I click the only buttton I can find on it and it flashes aa low blue glow onto my face. I slide my finger over the screen to unlock it, and start to go through things.

     When I hit my contacts I notice that Nathan is already saved, along with my mother, Dad, and Warren.

     "Thank you," I whisper.

     He just nods and starts to turn back to the couch, but suddenly turns back to face me.

     "I told you not to get involved with her," he grounds out through clenched teeth.

     My eyes start to burn with unshed tears and he stares at me with such conviction.

     "Those guys that went after you aren't just some normal off the street thugs. Those guys will kill you in one second. One second, Max. What if I didn't hear you scream through the phone? Do you know how fucking worried I was? You could have died," his voice cracks with emotion and I try not to cry. I don't know what to say or what to do.

     He's walking back and forth in his room, his hands shaking and running through his hair. He clears his throat and casts his eyes at me.

     "You would've been dead, Max. You shouldn't be involved in this. At all. It has been a few days. A few days since you even started to know things and already you are getting yourself into bad situations!

     "I don't think you understand that I have to protect you now, ever since that day in the bathroom and you looked at me with your helpless eyes, I knew I couldn't leave you behind, but dammit! Why do you have to go looking for Chloe? Those people are fucked up. Max, you don't understand. You are a target. A target they will use to fuck with me."

     "Why do you even care so much, Nathan? You could've left me! It would've saved you all the trouble!" I yell at him, desperation dripping in my voice. It would've saved him the trouble if he just didn't speak to me. If he didn't offer to help me. If he didn't hold me in the night.

     "Max! What the fuck? Shut up! I'm not leaving you to be a plaything for Chloe. What is wrong with you? Why would you even say that?" He walks over to his bed, sits his body next to mine and cups my crying face in his hands, "I won't let Chloe have you."

     I snatch my face from his hands and push him away, "FUCK YOU." I scream. He sits there staring at me with his jaw clenched and fists tight.

     My tears are rolling down my face and I am trying to be as dignified as I can in a moment like this, but it isn't really working. He doesn't do much but stalk back over to the couch.

     "Stay the fuck away from Chloe," he states firmly, and then plops on his couch so he doesn't have to speak to me.

     My tears are still flowing freely and reach my shaking fingers up to brush them away. I turn my body so that I'm on my side and my damaged back aches in protest.

     Nathan told me to stay away, but there's more to Chloe than what's she's showing us. 

     I close my eyes and after a few hours, manage to fall into a dreamless sleep, the empty space on the bed reminding me of the few real moments I shared with Nathan.

 


	6. Falling into Him

* * *

* * *

     I wake up, this time without the weird dream assailing my senses. My eyes are wide open, but the room is dim and I can hear thunder booming. I turn my head and see the morning sky pouring down rain.

     I turn my head the other way and see Nathan laying on his couch. His normally rough face is soft with sleep, and his expression is peaceful. I smile slightly at the sight of him and then chastise myself.

     Staring at people while they sleep is weird, Max.

    I turn to look back at the window as the thunder booms and lighting strikes.

    I need to get out of here. I need to get out of here and give Nathan his space. He's already done enough. I just can't decide if what he has done had been good or bad. I just don't know.

    I push myself up from the bed and my back screams in protest, but I keep pushing until I'm sitting up. The pain isnt as bad as last night. Maybe the meds I took are still working. My breathing has become ragged, but I turn until my feet are touching the cool ground. I can feel the tenderness of mybright ankle and remeber how I awkwardly landed on it the day before. The room is cold and I shiver as I look for my jacket and shoes.

     I turn around to look on the other side of the bed and gasp when I see the dried blood caked on the sheets. Holy shit. I got fucked up. I reach a hand around to feel an old bandage wrapped around my torso and feel stinging in my eyes.

     Stop, no feelings, Max. You need to get out of here. Yesterday was bad. Last night was bad. If I can just get away, maybe I can distance myself from everything happening. Maybe I can make it out alive.

     I locate my shoes in the corner and quietly slip them on so that I don't wake Nathan up and search around for my jacket. My eyes scan the room, but I can't seem to find it. I groan quietly because I really like that jacket. I don't want to go without it. I start to rustle through the pile of jackets on his desk chair when I hear a noise and see Nathan is starting to wake up.

     Fuck it, looks like I'm leaving without it. I rush to the door and open it up. I practically jump into the hallway and begin to shut his dorm room door. I see Nathan's head pop up right before the door shuts and his bright blue eyes lock on mine. He rushes to stand up, but I slam the door and take off down the hall.

     I swiftly turn around, but the sudden pain from my back bring me to a halt. I slowly start to make my way down the hall, but before I even get two feet away, Nathan's firm grip rests on my arm.

     "What are you doing," he grounds out, the oceans in his eyes storming with anger.

     "Leaving," I say, acting like I didn't hear the tremble in my voice.

      "No."

       He starts to pull me back to his door and I start to panic, but my voice is stuck in my throat. God, after last night, I don't know what he wants with me.

     We enter his room and he lets go of me and gestures for me to sit down on the couch. I do so as I eye his bedroom door, contemplating other ways to escape. He walks to his closet and looks through it as I sit patiently on his couch, the thunder still booming outside. My breathing is shallow because, well, fuck storms. They're scary. He sits beside me suddenly, causing me to jump, and he smiles slightly, probabaly thinking his sudden presence next to me has me on edge. Which it does, but not the way he believes.

     Smug boy.

     "It's the storm," I say leaving out the rest that I though in my mind. 'Not you, Dumbass.'

      I still stare out the window and he looks out and takes in the storm as if he didn't notice it before. We sit to the sound of the rain pitter pattering and the occasional boom from thunder, causing me to tense more. I see him out of the corner of my eyes glance down to my tightly fisted hands and see their slight shaking.

     "Scared?" He whispers, but not in a mocking way.

     I slightly nod, and he just stares at my face. I ignore him, but then he shifts, turning on the couch so that he is facing me. He's closer than before. His knee is pressing into my thigh and his shirtless torso is closer to my soon to be wandering hands.

    Wait. No. Scratch that. I didn't think that.

     I bite my lip in unwarranted embarrassment. Thunder booms outside and I start to breathe harder, but this time, it isn't because of the storm.

     "Take your shirt off." He states.

      I whip my head to him and look incredulously at his serious face. Where the hell did that come from?

     "Fuck that," I squeak out. There is no way I am just lifting my shirt so that he can see my unsatisfactory half naked body.

      He smiles again and lifts up the new bandages he has for my back. Wow. He's smooth. I swallow roughly as he waits expectantly.

     Smug boy.

     I stand and start to reach for the hem of my shirt, but wince in pain as my back once again refuses to cooperate. I pull my hands back down to my shirt and I feel my back slowly trying to kill me. It's just that intense. I hear myself let out a whimper, and my face instantly burns with emabarassment. I can't do this. 

     I start to reach again when I feel Nathan's body heat next to mine. He looks at me for a moment and hesitates. I'm not moving because, damn, that hurt, but he moves closer and then places his hands at the bottom of my shirt, slowly pushing it up for me. His hands are trembling and he isn't looking at my face or speaking. He's just moving, slowly, nervously moving.

     Not so smug boy.

     I start to breathe choppily as his fingers push up further, closer to taking it off.

      His fingers brush my smooth skin slightly as he pushes it up over my bra, causing me to gasp, but I act like I didn't because me? Nathan? No.

     He pulls it over my chest and now all he has left to do is pull it over my head, but then I remember that he doesn't have to, and that he won't, because he's just wrapping my back.

     I look into Nathan's face and see he's staring at mine. I look into his blue eyes, bite my lips in nervousness, and start to move, but the thunder outside booms and I jump, causing me to cry out in pain once again.

      Nathan's eyebrows furrow and he hastily starts to take off my bandages. Once he takes them all off and sets throws them into the trash by his desk, I see more blood, only this time it's fresher than before. He walks back over and hands me some meds that I down quickly. Anything to stop the pain. And excessive bleeding.

     Damn, what did I land on?

      He grabs the fresh bandages and starts to wrap them around my torso and back until he's sure they are okay.

     Once he's finished, he grasps my T-shirt and pulls it down over my slight frame, leaving his hands on my sides. We're still really close, and I can feel his warm breaths on my cheeks, but I'm looking down.

     He reaches his right hand up and it brushes my cheek softly, then he leans slightly forward and rests his forehead on mine.

     "Max," he whispers.

      I close my eyes and revel in the feel of him, but then I snap my eyes open, seeing my hand halfway to his face, just begging to touch him. Begging to revel in the feel of his overwhelming scent and the amount of safety he makes me feel I have. I can't touch him though. Just a few mere hours ago he was holding my trembling body in his arms, but directly after he made me feel worthless. As if he only wants me around so Chloe can't have me.

     It's all a game between them, and right nkw Nathan is doing anything to make sure he wins. Even if that means staying up late into the night to make sure I fall asleep in comfort. In the comfort he gives me.

     What the fuck am I doing? I can't do this. I can't deal with it.

     I pull away abruptly, and Nathan lets go of me, his eyes wide with fear. I start to panic and turn and run for the door, rushing out into the hallway. I hear him call my name as I slam it shut once more. The exit is twenty steps away, I can make it this time. I have to.

     Fifteen.

     Ten.

     Five.

     Four.

      _Three!_

     "Max," I hear my name being called unsurely.

      No! I rush forward, but a hand wraps around my forearm once again and I slump in defeat. I could wait five minutes, tell him to fuck off and sleep in his comfortable bed all day, ignoring anything he says or does. Maybe it wouldn't be too awful if he lets me avoid him. If he lets me ignore what I feel.

     I am swung around, causing me to have a "fuck you" ready already because he knows I'm hurt and that was really shitty, but when my eyes reach my captor, they're filled with Warren. Seeing him shocks me and tears come freshly down my cheeks as I look up at him, and his eyes widen in surprise.

     "Max, what's wrong?" He says, instantly worried.

     I shake my head and he walks closer. I throw myself into his arms and start to cry harder because seeing him is just too much. He's my best friend. My normal go to guy, and I haven't seen him in a few days, but so much has happened.

     Oh, so much.

     He tightens his arms around me and I'm surrounded by the gentle smell of his cologne which causes me to cry harder becuase there's so much normalcy in him. He then pulls back to look at me, taking away the dizzying comfort he was giving me.

     His eyebrows scrunch, and I look over his shoulder to see a glaring Nathan standing a few feet behind us. His fists are clenched and he's shooting daggers at the back of Warren's head. I stare at him as Warren mumbles more words that I don't catch.

     Nathan turns his eyes to me and I swear I can see more than anger. I see.. Betrayal? Hurt?

     I can't tell, but I don't believe it. My mind's probably playing tricks on me. He pivots abruptly and stalks off toward his room and Warren wraps his arm around me and steers me out of the dorms.

      He's a liar. Fuck his feelings. They're fake. Nothing is real. It's all a ploy to get to Chloe. Fuck him. I don't care. I don't.. I don't.. I don't know.

     All I know is I didn't feel okay anymore when he walked the other way. 

 


	7. Falling Behind

* * *

     "Holy shit, Max!" Warren exclaims after I lift the bandages. "What did you do?"

     I grunt as I place the white strips back in place and turn to look at his face, "I fell backwards," I mumble.

     His eyes widen, he grimaces, takes another look, and slowly reaches out tonpat my head. I pull my shirt down as he stares at the blood seeping through the bandages. Damn, did I get fucked up. He sighs, looks around my dorm room and then his eyes land on my guitar.

     He moves to grab it and starts plucking at the strings and a pleasant tune fills my ears. I smile softly and slowly lay down so my back doesn't protest as he sits on the ground, his back against my couch and his head close to mine pressing into the cushions.

      "I think we should go see a movie, don't you?"

     I grunt in a noncommittal way, but Warren keeps talking.

     "We need to get out of here, you feel? I think that if you have less bullshit pulling you down right now you might make it out without drowing yourself in stress."

     I listen as Warren lists ways going to the movie would be better than staying cooped up, but I don't say much of anything. I'm too exhausted and my bed isn't nearly as nice as Nathan's. 

     Fuck him and his rich ass.

     "So, why were you in the boys' dorms, Max?" He asks softly, over his strumming of the guitar.

     This time I sigh, and I turn my head to look at him. I try to think of a legitimate reason and start to question whether or not I should just tell him the truth.

     "I was in the dorms beca--"

     A loud knock on my door interrupts my answer and Warren looks at me with confused eyes.

     I shrug because I don't know who it could be anymore than him.

     He moves to stand up and he reaches for the door as the person on the opposite side starts to knock once again. I roll my eyes in annoyance and wait for Warren to reveal the pesky nuisance, already preparing a montage worthy amount of curse words to say if it's Nathan.

     It swings open, and my well thought out phrases seem to fly from my brain. Chloe stands there with one of the two guys that chased after me the other day. I try not to gasp in fear as she struts into my room and plops onto my bed. The guy takes one look at Warren and his lips form a smirk that makes me want to vomit. I just want to scream at him to leave my friends alone, including Chloe.

     My eyes flit to hers and I see her reaction to my room. She looks almost sad. There has to be more going on with her than what it looks like. Something fucked up is going on.

     After a brief moment her eyes land on mine and they harden instantly. The guy walks up to her and stands by her on the bed, his bruised face taking in my own. I take in his damaged state and smile a little at the fact that Nathan beat his ass. Fuck yeah.

     "You disappeared the other night," she states calmly, "I thought we had an agreement."

     I look to Warren who is looking back and forth between Chloe and I, and I stand up quickly to walk over to him. I try to mask my grunt of pain with a cough, but the man's outstretched smile makes me think he knows what is really going on.

     I reach Warren and quietly whisper to him, "You should go," I state, because honestly, I didn't want to be involved in this so why would I add him into it?

     He starts to protest, but I pull his arm to the door, "go," I say, hoping my voice is firm.

     He looks at me and whispers furiously, "if you're caught up in drugs, I can help you Max. Don't dig yourself a deeper hole." 

     "That's not what this is," I say and the moment I start to say it, he spits out, "Bullshit, Max."

     I point to the door and he huffs in anger and storms off. I walk calmly back to my couch and sit down.

     Chloe is sitting on my bed and looks at my shut door with an amused expression. I ignore it.

     "An agreement would have been in order had your goons not tried to kill me, and your idea of getting information wasn't fucked," I say, not particularly believing the words myself.

     Chloe laughs, like, actually laughs. Again. What is it with her laughing at me? I think about the silent laughing Chloe in my dreams and try not to shudder.

     "If it didn't seem real, then Prescott wouldn't have come. Prescott always seems to care about the quiet, awkward, damaged ones."

     I scrunch my eyebrows and try to ignore her dig at me. What the hell is that? God, she has one huge ass chip on her shoulder.

      "What did you find out about him?" 

     I fidget awkwardly as I try to find something to say, but I have nothing. Legit nothing, and even if I did, I wouldn't be willing to tell her, at least not with that guy in the room. I eye him and open my mouth.

    "I don't have anything to tell you. I never agreed to do it. I'm not giving you information on him. I don't know who the bad guy is yet." I say, somehow growing some balls.

     She eyes me, the man, and then looks out my window, "Leave, Jax." She says to the man, and he nods, then walks to my door.

     I stare at it and silently thank Chloe for making him leave. 

     Jax, eh? Fuck you.

     Chloe lays back and clears her throat, causing me to look at her.

     "We used to he friends, right Max?" She asks casually, but I don't answer. She continues anyway.

     "I didn't ask for this, Max. I didn't ask to be some crazed drug dealer, but here I am, being one. I had to hurt you to hurt him. I need to get him. And you're going to help me. This little fucked up thing we've got going on? It's going to end, starting with that backstabbing bitch of a man. He wants all these drugs to forget all of his problems, but doesn't know how to pay for 'em the way he agreed to. So he has to be taken out. I don't tolerate someone who commits then backs out. I had a lot of clients through him and now I have next to nothing. This shit isn't something we can go pussyfooting around. This shit is the real deal. Nathan seems to think backing out and not giving me what he owes and not buying more is so heroic deed to stop getting people fucked up. To make them stop wasting money. Money that I'm losing and not paying it out to my guy up top, and do you know what happens when I don't pay my guy up top?"

     Chloe has a crazed look and I just stare at her in fascination. Something killed who she used to be, but that desperation in her voice makes me feel like the old her is begging to be free.

     I still haven't answered, and she inches toward me, reaching her hands out to my wrists, "He comes to me to get what he wants, in any way he sees fit," she lashes out and pushes me against the back of the couch until she is hovering on top of me.

     "He gets what he wants, Max, and I'll get what I want. So, bring Nathan here, tonight, or I'll leave Jax with you. You can see what it means to be punished."

     She pushes off of me and opens the door to my dorm, turns to me with glistening eyes, and looks down, "Don't make me do it, Max. Bring Nathan."

     "What are you talking about? I'm not luring him into a trap. And I'm not going to do anything for you after you sent people out to kill me!" I'm fuming, trying not to walk over and strangle her, but I'm walking on the edge.

     Chloe smirks, "Stop fucking up, I'll stop sending people out to beat your ass. Or maybe I should do it again. Your boyfriend seemed to rush in to save you the last time."

    "See? Why would I do anything for you? You're threatening me already! What is this shit? Chloe, what did you get yourself into? There has to be a way out!" I say, quickly changing topics.

    She slams the door shut and stalks clsoer to me, "There's nothing anyone can do to save me. And I really don't mind. I like the feel of pain deep in my chest. I like the feel of hate fueling my every moment. I like the feeling of desperation calwing at me, telling me to do anything I want to get what I want. So fuck off and do what I tell you. We don't want that back of ours to get worse now, right?"

     She grimaces at me, pats me on my back, casuing me to breathe in sharply, laughs, and exits my room. 

     I breathe deeply for a moment and am finally relaxed enough to not panic when my door swings open again and I almost launch a book at it, but Warren peeks through.

     I sigh in relief and then start thinking.

     "So Warren, when's that movie you wanted to see?" I ask nonchalantly.


	8. Falling Backward

* * *

* * *

     I watch the trees blend together as Warren and I drive to the cinema. He wanted to see some old movie about apes, and I wasn't about to turn him down. A night without Chloe and Nathan is a night of peace.

     His sterio is playing some soft acoustic music and I can't help but smile at the fact that he's playing it for me. Man, Warren is my best friend. I really need to get him in the loop.

     I turn my head and steal a glance at his profile, his arms are stretched out to the steering wheel and his hands are tightly wrapped around.

     He turns to me and smiles a swanky smile, "What's going on in that little head of yours, Mad Max?" 

     I sigh, before we came I told him parts of what was really going on, but the dream about Chloe I kept avoiding. I'm scared to face it.

     Sucking in a deep breath I steel myself for this conversation, "I had a dream-"

     "We get it, Max, you're smart, but if you start quoting MLK Jr., I might push you out of my car," he says, his eyes twinkling.

     I smile and scoff at him, throwing a soft punch to his arm, "Anyway," I drag the word out, "I had a dream about Chloe the other night."

     His eyebrows reach up to his hairline and he starts to open his mouth, but I hold a hand up, "It was more of a nightmare," I amend.

     "There were different versions of her, in different timelines of her life, and it was really creepy. They all had an expression on their faces, but they were completely silent, except for one. The Chloe I left behind five years ago. We were in my room and she was calling out my name, and then everything around us changed, I was trying to get her not to fall off of a cliff and then she started screaming at me to wake up."

      Warren is focused on the road, but I can tell he's listening, "There was this one other one, the present one, who was silently laughing at me the whole time. As I was trying to save the younger Chloe she said I was killing her. I didn't know what to do."

     It was so weird. The whole thing. They kept telling me to wake up.

     My thoughts stop instantly as I realize something. My jaw drops to the floor as I mull over this newest development.

     Nathan was the one saying all of those things. He was calling my name in the middle of the night and he was begging me to wake up because I was screaming in my sleep. Oh, God. I probably was killing him.

     I choke on some emotion as these thought roll over and over in my mind.

     Warren hears the sudden sound and turns to me quickly. "Oh Max, I'm sorry. That is some pretty messed up stuff you've got going on in your head, but it's nothing to cry over. It'll be alright." He reaches his hand over and pats my knee.

     I try to take comfort in his touch but all I can think about is how much I must've scared Nathan. No wonder he was so upset when I woke up.

     We're pulling into the drive-in and Warren glances at my solemn face, "You know instead of all that weird stuff, you should just change the movie and dream about me instead."

     I laugh at his comment as we park in a spot slightly left from the middle.

     We hop out of the car and stretch our tired legs, me being wary of my still sore back. Luckily I snatched my meds from Nathan's and I was able to take them so it isn't too painful.

     "Want some popcorn?" He asks.

     I nod my head enthusiasticly and he shakes his head with a wide smile.

     "Let's go get some," he then walks up to me, takes my arm, and we head off toward the concession stand. 

     We're laughing about nonessential things once I feel someone shoulder check me. My back protests the movement and I turn to see who was so rude.

     I look into the angry eyes of some girl that I attend Blackwell with. Why was she so rude?

     I open my mouth but before I say anything, she spews out venom, "Wow, for such a quiet girl you're quite the slut. First you're locked in Nathan Prescott's room for days and now you're out whoring around with some guy? I mean, they do say to watch out for the quiet ones, but damn."

     My eyes widen in alarm as I try to process what she just said.

     I mean, I couldn't really think that no one would think anything, but I didn't think it'd be so harsh or so judgmental. I take a step back from her and Warren starts to defend me, but I just hold my hand up.

     "Fuck this," I say and start to walk away.

     The girl laughs and calls me some more unflattering names as I walk back to the car. Anywhere I go, there has to be something about Nathan or Chloe. I mean, what goes on in my mind and what I talk about doesn't count, right?

     I groan and drop my head to my hands as I feel Warren next to me. He wraps his arm around me and we sit like that until the movie starts. I've had worse days. I can get through this one.

 


	9. Falling Back With You

* * *

     Nathan, Nathan, Nathan.

     Everyone gives a huge shit about what Nathan is up to. Who he's drugging out with, who he's walking around with, who he's fucking.

      Why do they all care? Oh right, because of his stupid rich ass family.

     I'm fuming as I pace my room, wondering how in the hell I'm supposed to get Nathan and Chloe together so that I don't die. The other problem is the fact that I don't want Nathan to die. 

      Yeah, I give a shit about Nathan, too, but not for his money. I give a shit because of who he is. God, he's a broken man.

     I glance at my clock, noting the time at 5:43, and head out toward the guy's dorms. I need to talk to him. Maybe we can work a way through this together.

     I stop in my tracks as I remember how I ended things with him the other day. What is wrong with me? I slap a hand to my forehead and drag it down my face in defeat.

     Nice going, Caulfield.

     I slowly start to walk toward the dorms, this time less than enthusiastic as I was. To think that he'd be happy to work with me in this. He already hates me for talking to Chloe in the first place.

      I finally approach his hallway and start to walk down. All of the guys are staring at me, probably wondering if I'm going to Nathan's or Warren's. I mean, I am the school slut right now.

     I laugh at myself as I make my way to Nathan's door and knock once, twice, a third time.

     He isn't answering. I knock again and I hear a door open behind me, "Oh, hey Max," Warren says.

     "Hey," I smile at him and turn to look at a now open door with Nathan in the way. I raise my eyes to look at him and I see him staring at me.

     He looks up to see Warren and smiles smugly at him. What is that about? He then looks down the hall to see several of the guys watching our exchange.

     Without speaking, Nathan wraps his large hands around my hips, pulls me into his chest, in front of everyone I might add, and then takes us into the room, slamming the door shut.

     I untangle myself from him and glare into his eyes, "What was that about?" I nearly shout.

     He backs up and shrugs indifferently, heading over to his couch. He plops down and spreads his arms out.

     Guess I didn't need to worry about him being mad at me.

     I cross my arms as I wait for him to speak up. He sighs in annoyance and looks at my small form, "Well, word around the block is you're a slut, willing to go for any guy who shows you attention. Just thought I'd show them you aren't on the market."

     I widen my eyes as I try to interpret what he just said. I look at his smug face and huff. He laughs and then his face sombers.

     "How's your back," he asks.

     It's actually been about a week since the incident, I just slept through most of it, so my back isn't too bad. Just scarring.

     "It's alright." I say quietly.

     I start to walk around his room and end up sitting on his bed. I start to pick at my nails in the silence, not knowing how to talk to him about what Chloe wants.

     "So," I start awkwardly, "The last time I spoke to Chl-"

     "WHY DO YOU KEEP TALKING TO HER?" he shouts, abruptly standing from the couch. His hands are clenched in fists and his face is red.

     I stare open mouthed as he starts to pace, scrubbing his hands over his face and through his hair. 

    He looks at my shocked face and lowers his tremblings hands to his sides, "Why?" He asks.

     I open and close my mouth a few times, trying to figure out how to start this conversation. My eyes are burning from embarrassment and I know he can see the tears getting ready to overflow.

     His stance softens and he slowly approaches me, but I flinch backward, "S-She c-c-came into my r-room," I stutter out.

     I watch as his eyes lock onto mine and I see his jaw clench and unclench, "I didn't invite her, she just came. She said that I needed you to meet up with her or she would take me to he boss."

     My own hands are slapping at my face, scrubbing away the traitorous tears.

     Nathan watches me and starts to walk toward me again. I crawl backward on his bed until I hit the headboard. He sits on the edge of the bed and watches my awkward movements.

     He's not saying anything, he's just watching me and I can't handle it. 

     "I'm sorry," I whisper, "I thought I could go to you for help."

     His eyes narrow out this statement and he opens his mouth to fight back what I said.

     "No," I say, "I won't bother you anymore. I'll just- I'll just see if Warren can help," I say as I abruptly stand up and head for his door.

     I hear him grumble and then I feel his hand on my forearm, twisting me around to face him.

     "No," he says through gritted teeth, "You aren't going to Warren."

     I glare up into his angry eyes and start to get angry myself, "Where am I supposed to go?" I spit at him, "You don't want to help me!" 

     His other hands latches onto my other forearm and he slightly shakes me, "No. I never said I wouldn't help. You aren't going to ask Warren for help. Ever. You ask me. I will help you. I will always help you."

 


	10. Falling Into Awkwardness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey! So random fact, my lovlies, I have a book that I'm writing and if you like this enough to maybe obsess over some of my original work, check out Surge by ItIsEdgar on Wattpad! Try it out. You won't regret it! (I hope) but anyways, back to Max and Nathan.

My mouth hangs open, realizing that Nathan just got very possessive. Over me. Was it because of all of the guys? He probably had to shoe some sort of dominance or something stupid like that.      

I squeeze my eyes shut and try to replay what just happened in my head.      

"Max," Nathan whispers, "stop running away from me. I'll help you with Chloe. I'm sorry for getting mad," his soft voice fills my head and I start to breathe choppily, "I just worry about you so much. I just- I'm sorry," he says again.      

I open my brown eyes and glance into the seas of his own, "it's okay," I whisper back.      He reads my face for a moment, then pulls me to the couch with him. He sits down and pulls me right next to him, still whispering.      

"What do you need me to do?"    

I scoot back a little so that we aren't touching so much, it's making my head hurt. Well, more like filling my head with lots of thoughts.      

Thoughts about Nathan saving me.      

Thoughts about Nathan taking me to the hospital.      

Thoughts about Nathan holding me in my sleep.      

Thoughts about Nathan lifting my shirt and me wanting to-      

I rub my temples as I try to think about what he asked me. I don't say anything for a moment and Nathan lightly grabs my wrists and pulls them from my head.      

"Max," he whispers lightly and I look up at his face, my eyes widening.       

He is so close.      

Close enough that we could-      

I glance down to his throat, trying to get my mind off of this and see his Adam's apple bob up and down with a nervous swallow.      I try to pull my arms from his grasp, but he just lightly tightens his hold.      

"Max," he says again, this time a little louder, a little more attention getting.      

I glance up and see him staring at me. My eyes drift down to his lips and he wets them with his tongue.    

"I.. I should go talk to Warren," I say, trying to find a way to clear my mind.      

Nathan's face hardens and he tugs backward on my wrists until my arms are wrapped around him. He then lets go and brings his own arms back around me, pressing my face to his chest.      

"No," he says. "Talk to me."      

My eyebrows furrow as his arms tighten around me. Weren't we talking about something important? What is going on right now?    

I pull back slightly and Nathan tightens his hold, "No. You're staying. You aren't going to Warren. I'm right here."      

I try to wrap my mind around a reason as to why he'd be saying this to me.       

"Is this because everyone thinks I'm a slut?" I whisper, "Are you trying to make me look less slutty?"      

Nathan quickly pushes me back until he's staring right at my face and I quickly regret what I just said. He looks like he wants to murder me.      

"If I was trying to make you look less slutty, I'd do it where people can see. You aren't talking to Warren because I don't want you to." He spits out.      

I get really pissed at that and slap his hands off of me, "So, wait. You won't let me talk to Warren because you don't want me to? What is wrong with you?"      

I jump off of the couch and look for my bag I must've thrown somewhere. What is his problem? It's not like I'm fucking the guy.       I suck in a breath. Oh my God! He thinks I'm fucking the guy! Well who gives a shit, I don't know why he does.       

I find my bag by his bed and slip it on, heading to the door.      

"Max," he says, "don't go to him. I'm right here. Max, please. I'm sorry, it just drives me crazy. The thought of you two being close to each other, laughing together, just doing anything together makes me want to fucking kill him!" He shouts.      

I whirl around to face him, "Why? Why does it piss you off so much? I can't have any other friends than you? You weren't even in my life two weeks ago!" I shout back.      

He walks over to me and grabs my face in his hands, then quickly smashes his lips into my own. I gasp in surprise and he uses it as a way to seek entrance into my mouth. After a moment of shock, my body starts to work again, my own tongue starts to war with his, my hands instinctively reaching up to grip his hair. He kisses me until I can't breathe and he pulls back, laying his forehead on mine. His breathing is as heavy as my own.      

"No. No, Max. I don't want anyone to touch you. I don't want anyone to hold you when you're screaming in your sleep. I don't want anyone to wipe away your tears. I don't want anyone to kiss those lips. I don't want anyone to do anything to you unless it's me. I want to touch you, and hold you when you sleep. I want to wipe away your tears and kiss your lips. I want to do those things, and the thought of some other punk ass guy doing it makes me want to fucking hurt someone."


End file.
